#Feral Child behavior

[rokishimizu4]

Green Lantern and his run-in with a spider.

(I have figured it out! Tomato soup, Sudafed, and being sick makes me feral as fuck! So be prepared cause I’m still sick and it’s probably not ending anytime soon.) TW: Arachnophobia (But it’s not a real spider, just a spider made of copper)

Hal Jordan was not made for long nights of all work and no play, or traveling on and off Earth to exchange information with the other Green Lanterns.

He all but collapses on his dirty bed, still as the Green Lantern, only to jump up with the most manliness scream known to man as he comes face to face with Red Robin, who was sitting right next to his bed (waiting in the dark and quiet). “Don’t fucken do that kid! I about hit you!”

”You couldn’t hit the red side of a barn with a bottle.” The kid replays with an exhausted grunt, clearly the kid is back to his own bullshit of not sleeping properly, which is very valid to Hal.

”Why are you even here? It’s like.. 4 in the fucken morning or something.” Hal mumbles as he tries to get comfortable, only to feel something hard under his stomach. Which he properly searches his bed and finds a small spider made of melted copper.

“Oh come the fuck on…” Green Lantern grumbles as he grabs the spider and tosses it towards Red Robin. “Your turn kid. Not it.”

Red Robin grabs it and checks it over, finding a small note etched into the under belly of the spider.

“Look to the stars, and find the trail of powered Kryptonie.” Red Robin reads out loud, and looks at Green Lantern for a clue.

”Isn’t that the stuff that Superman’s made out of, or wait. He is weak to that. It’s like the Red Sun and magic.” Hal rolls out of his bed and moves to stand up, but notices that someone else had joined the later night party.

A, fucken, giant copper spider crawls into Hal’s apartment through the OPEN window, and settles itself on the floor near a confused Red Robin.

”FUCK THAT!” Green Lantern and Red Robin screams in pure panic as they both rush away from the giant spider and barrel into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind them.

“Green Lantern to JL, you have five seconds to come to my location before I burn this building down!!” “Red Robin to Oracle, how do you kill a giant copper spider, without burning the room down?”

The noises of confused panic is the only response that Green Lantern and Red Robin make out as they both try to figure out how to get out of the bathroom without destroying the entire room, as the bathroom window was too small for Red Robin to crawl out of.

Cue a few hours later, really only 10 minutes later, and another heart attack, due to Martian Manhunter popping his head in the bathroom through the wall, until Red Robin and Green Lantern were able to safely come out of the bathroom.

Only to see that the giant, LIVING, copper spider, and the fake small cooper spider were gone, and the message was now written on a piece of golden paper laying on Green Lantern’s side table, near his bed.

To say that Hal Jordan decided to spend the night, and a few more nights, in the JL Headquarters would be an understatement, as would Red Robin switching to patrolling in the daytime hours for a little while be as well.

At least until Batman figures out the meaning of the message, and receiving an envelope with an apologetic letter and a promise that no more copper spider visits for Green Lantern and Red Robin.

”Are we SURE that it’s not some cosmic gremlin child playing pranks on us? Does it not know how else to send out a letter? Does it not have a phone or email?” Green Lantern complains for weeks later from this experience.

[thenonbinarydetective]

I'm like half out of it, but there are issues persisting with fanon's consistency in acting like Damian is still 10 or below that puts people in a position that overlooks/dismisses the larger issues in that interpretation of his character.

idk people who are like trying to view these demonizing behaviors as him being "just a bratty kid" that doesn't work when you apply the context of who he is and what it means to associate that behavior with him. which connects to the larger issues of racism or even sanism

[mother-of-houseplants-2]

father // the front bottoms

[blackbackedjackal]

I've been watching this whole thing unfold from the sidelines and saw the long post by Tek (hopefully got the name right) as well. I just wanted to say that the situation is wild and what ultimately gets me is not just the sheer level of nuclear vitriol in that verbal abuse, but also the absolute immaturity; specifically, the use of her issues as a shield for said immaturity and unprofessionalism on Dog's part. It isn't acceptable for someone to behave in this manner (and for this long...). Guess she missed the memo that mental illness isn't an excuse to be abusive. Many people with the same stuff aren't abusive at all! As someone who was severely abused in person by people using their issues an excuse to be abusive, it really does enrage me to see it. I am sorry you and others had to go through this, it's absolutely vile behavior. DogBlud abusing people and behaving like a Lycanthropic Rage Karen is not something I expected to see, but here we are. I just hope that maaaaayyyybbbeee she reflects and gets therapy or something about that pathological, self-destructive abuse cycle she throws around towards people who are supposed to be friends. She needs it badly. Up to her if she actually considers growth but the bar isn't high for her there. Love June btw!

The thought "huh she's reminding me of my abusive ex," popped into my head a couple of times, and I was like oooooh, that not good. So I just handled it the same way I did with him, locked her in circular arguments to frustrate her and keep her at a distance mentally, while letting her talk till she confessed to her toxic behavior. When you think you're the smartest person in the room, eventually, the smartest person will tell you to shut up (which Rex and I did teehee).

We had several people come forward to me and trashasaurusrex telling us about bits of her toxic behavior, but tek was the last person she collaborated with. Dog used to talk MAD shit about tek in my server, and I was like "tek either be a literal demon by the way you're describing her or, you, Dog, are a liar." As it turns out, tek is infact VERY NICE and I got angry that Dog dared to take advantage of her kindness in such a horrid way.

The thing is, I've barely touched on the stuff she did to me. I wrote up my testimony the day after I kicked her from my server to a neutral third party who was working on a collaborative project with her at the time. I wanted to give it some warning in case Dog tried to pull the same shit in that server, and around the same time tek and I started talking and comparing notes. Like the screenshots of her convos with tek literally parallel mine at some parts.

Anyway just, yeah I agree with you 100%. She's a serial abuser and manipulator with a mountain of evidence as proof. I haven't even gotten to the 34 minute phonecall like lord that's gonna be a doosey to explain.

She can grow all she wants from this. I hope she does get help, apologies, and, finally, and does better. But she has to PROVE that to me and Rex before she comes back on my block. Neither of us are in any position to be willing to forgive her for the shit she put us through.

[realitybitesyouknowit]

Chapters: 10/10 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape Characters: Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom Additional Tags: Severitus | Severus Snape is Harry Potter's Parent, Severus Snape Adopts Harry Potter, HotSnapeSummer, Snapecelebration2022, Feral Harry Potter, Feral Behavior, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Past Child Abuse Series: Part 1 of The feral child Summary:

It's the summer of 1986 and Severus Snape just wants to enjoy his summer vacation in peace. But the idyll of his small garden is disturbed by an uninvited intruder that he could never have predicted.

[kelpiemomma]

He hesitated as the child below him smiled and reached up. His claws rested right above its head and yet it looked delighted to see him. Did it not realize the danger it was in? It grabbed his fur and giggled.

"Puppy!"

...if he was asked, he was simply raising it up to help him infiltrate human settlements better.

[grim-faux]

3 _ 45 _ The Trick and the Tricked

First – An Echo Rebounds Through the Silent City

Trigger Warning for disturbing themes and images and some graphic descriptions. I know this is Little Nightmares, but sometimes these chapters get too wholesome I don't want people forgetting what series this is.

On the frumpy couch draped a long limbed and long bodied shape, the head tilted far back with the hat askew and low over the brow. Throughout the small living space extending from the inert shape, the air buzzed gently, a lone standing lamp in one corner – partially bent in the center – flashed periodically. Boxes and other castoffs such as clothing and collapsed erosion from the ceiling, coated the floor in a fine archeological curiosity of a past history. The archway of the distant hall awaited silent and dim, while a mischievous breeze skittered through a distant room somewhere. If not for the lanky figure sprawled on the couch this abode would be no different from the winding roads and prolific buildings brimming throughout the Pale City; deserted and forgotten.

However, abandoned on the floor huddled one lone cushion. The grungy cushion separated from its home beside the couch's base and waddled across the floor. That is, until it flopped forward, and the child tumbled over it.

It was great joy for Mono to climb onto the back of the cushion, snare it by a corner (or two) and try to pull the cushion up and over, all while he stood on it. Coupled with the weird distortions the Thin Man caused with his twitching, it was almost as if the cushion had a will of its own. Though it didn’t. Where or which way the cushion would flip was always a surprise, each time he tried to anticipate when he’d lose his balance and try catching himself before plopping onto his backside. Thus far, he was having a difficult time with that objective. This was all a lot of coordination and balance, a game he couldn't afford to avoid.

For Mono under his latest hat, the room is very dark, it was dark even when he managed to find his way back to the isolated dwelling a while ago. Some of the windows from other residents revealed the dark was ever present, thus quiet and dark time when the lampposts blazed brightest in the murk. This didn’t mean Mono could curl up in his room, since the tall thin man was already doing the rest. That was annoying and alarming to come back to, but nothing stopped the Thin Man from doing whatever he wanted to do. But the Thin Man did look so out of it when Mono caught him - the tall man should know better than run away from Mono when keep each other was the best. Then again, he didn't keep the bird.

She always liked when he caught something. This Mono knew, because they always had fights. When the Thin Man knew everything, then stuff like birds made him remember the girl. He knew Mono had Her and She was for a while his, and that upset the man and his hat. Even if he never did speek about Her to Mono, that didn't mean the Thin Man wasn't think about it. Mono tried not to think about any of that while he had his Thin Man.

Instead, he focused on other activities. Such as fighting the couch pillow. It wasn’t as great as the cushy pillows from the stores, but it flopped around and he could haul it through to the other rooms and across the small living space. He liked pretending the Thin Man was watching and impressed with Mono's power and skill. He always wanted Mono to do more. So, with mighty Mono strength he would lift the stiff cushion and hurl it a foot or something, and lunge at the stiff fiber to bite and kick. And headbutted it. Hard.

When he tumbled a little closer to the Thin Man’s place, Mono uncoiled himself and shuffled over to the statue figure. With a flash of his hand, he swung out an arm and smacked one long leg. And much faster, he turned coattail and zipped toward the corridor and hid beside the crooked edge.

Concealed by the corner of the wall, he fixed his hat and peeked out, checking for flicker of the light or a bristle in the static tinge soaked into the room. Nothing.

Zilch response.

That made Mono feel somewhat better, for some reason. The man in the hat was quiet. Mono made certain the rooms remained empty and untouched. Dangers were ever lurking, but Mono was amazing. He never let his guard down. When the Thin Man did rest, the Mono was watch. And he was best at it.

During the quiet spans between scouting, he partook in another activity that was becoming a steady recurrence. Mono would stick to one room and copy mark symbols from a book, onto one of the walls or floor. He only did a few symbols that didn’t need much turns or curves, and like the Thin Man, he liked to add some pictures. To tell his own sort of story. It was all mostly of scenery he recognized – trees and a field of grass, or the big water. And a door. Sometimes he carved out the places he liked to hide, like a broken desk or a little hole in the wall, and added the symbols to make work where this was. Birds would go into the symbol marks too, or what he decided would be bird marks. And a box. And the hallway, with the chair patiently waiting at the very end.

It would be nice if he could draw an opening in the wall and climb into that, whenever he needed one. No televisions or turning, or charred glass bursting at his back. The only time holes could be made in walls was when the boards could be snapped off, or some Viewer or another monster (with a thunder stick) put the hole there. It was better if kids made their own holes, but kids couldn’t do a lot of things that the monsters could.

Like shriek for no reason.

Speek of monsters and hiding, somewhere in his musing, Mono wandered from his speek marking and got into a stealth game! He hid behind corners, or under the dark spaces of furniture. When he abandoned the stuffy shadows completely, it was to emerge into the musty room on delicate feet. He padded among the sturdiest patches of the ruined floor, evading splintered wood or brittle scraps of papers. There was a special skill of skipping carefully and not shredding the feet pads on splinters or whatever else was ground into the timber. He practiced dashing between draperies of murk along the walls and skidded into the inky recesses beneath furniture, practicing holding his breath and not letting his nose tingle with the dust kicked up. It was a habit to retreat backwards on his hands and feet, then stare out into the room for any trace of threat. Listen for any hushed snuffling. Feel the air around his ears as a large shape hurtled with violent intent, seeking the children that sought to stay undetected despite their best efforts.

Sometimes monsters knew for no good reason. It wasn't fair.

Though he was not hiding from anything really, it was good to always know what he could manage while rooms brewed with passive and empty. Disjointed horrors came rooting around during the worst of times, and practiced kept kids from making the dumbest mistakes. Some kids got too scared to run, or couldn’t leap from windows to grab something. He’d seen a lot of kids twisted into bloody ravels.

He made a race from one room into the next, then squeezed up beneath a chair. The dwelling remained void of sounds, aside from his own heartbeat and muffled breathing beneath the brim of his hat.

Nothing lumbered about or bellowed, no abominable intruder crashed into the room. He sheltered from the air and the ugly blotches twisting across the walls. A smolder of pride burned in his chest, despite how inane the whole play act scenario was. He was so wily with escape and disappear, he could practically make himself vanish form the air itself. That skill kept him away from cages. Everything he did was only for escape, and watch others get caught. 

The fire leapt around them. One-by-one, each kid got snared up. He didn't look back.

He scooted from beneath the chair, staying low and creeping on airy steps. With extreme care, he tested his weight on each floorboard. He wanted to make it to the doorway without a creak, but the warped boards made that feat a near impossibility. He inched to the hallway, first perching by the doorframe and checking for movement through the familiar fringes. The cap slipped some over his brow but didn’t bother his vision too much. Crouched low, he prowled into the corridor and slipped along the wall, then upon reaching the next open doorway he coiled down and listened for out of place noises.

Sometimes he thought about the other children. The one’s that chased. Being extra cautious was a new priority on his errand list. So many questions, no answers. Just angry faces and chase.

With a shiver, Mono shook his head. He stood up in the bathroom and abandoned the area, rushing through the corridor and back to the big room. The cushion waiting there received a full tackle, and Mono learned he could hold the lumpy sides and do a barrel roll across the dingy piece of carpet. For a while he fought the cushion, trying to fold it over and sit on it.

One of the plush toys lay on the other side of the room, dumped behind a crate. He abandoned the cushion to dash over and grab the thing. He pulled the floppy animal out and sat with it, giving it a strict scrutiny – arms, head, chest, legs – he examined ever loose thread, and its frayed seams.

“Hurt?” he posed, to the mute, inanimate, and very unalive creature. “Wh’rr hurt?” The stuffed toy didn’t complain when he checked its muzzle. He could pull it apart, that wouldn’t matter to it one bit. On the other hand, Mono would not like being pulled apart. He was still trying to work out how to explain soft to the Thin Man. That was important. The man and his hat didn't understand how soft Mono was, and how it upset him the way the Thin Man pried at his arms and squished his chest. Mono was careful while examining the animal plush. Except when he coiled his arms around it and squeezed. "Shh... shh. Non'that. Ya'ok."

The tall thin man had two modes. Annoyed and grumpy. Mono hoped something would eventually cheer up the man in the hat, but waiting for something never accomplished much. Now, Mono wasn’t sure if it would be okay to stop for rest, because the Thin Man went nutty when he did something different. It was hard to figure what the Thin Man wanted. He wanted Mono to do powers, or make speek, and sometimes looked at Mono so closely it made his bones tingle. And despite always grabbing and looking at Mono, he always looked grumpy about something. This had something to do with the other kids, Mono was certain. They were not Mono.

Mono left the plush propped by the wall and hidden by the crate. He snuck to the far side of the couch and climbed onto the center cushion, where the Thin Man’s arm sagged. One of the smoke sticks dangled between his fingers, a faint wispy trail wound away from its end. He glared at the innocent vapor through the gloom, shoulders cinched beneath the hat and his fists in a knot on the gritty fiber of the couch.

Creeping a little closer to the Thin Man’s wrist, Mono griped at the dingy fabric of the seat cushion with his toes, to keep himself from somersaulting forward. He never got a good look at them while the things were lit, the Thin Man was always busy eating them. The Thin Man did speek that this was not food, but he always gnawed on the burning things. Staring at the smoldering tip, it really didn’t look like food. He was close enough, and with the contrast of the drafty room, he could detect how warm the stick was. Is that what made the Thin Man warm?

Mono stuck his tongue against the end the Thin Man always bit—

The fingers twitched, and Mono recoiled to the base of the couch’s backside. He curled down into the crease, hands latched over his cap and knees barred around his face. For several seconds he hunkered down, waiting for anything, braced for the worst. However, nothing happened.

Uncoiling ever so slowly, he craned his head up and checked for other signs. The Thin Man looked detached and hushed, the sharp angles of his outline vibrating.

“Ar’wake?” Mono whispered. He inched closer to the tall thin man and pushed against his knee. No response. It didn’t look like the Thin Man shut his eyes, but Mono didn’t really think he shut his own eyes when he did half sleep. He couldn’t be sure. The Thin Man was different, anyway.

Despite his uncertainty, Mono shook out of the defensive bubble and stood by the Thin Man’s leg. He planted his hands on the stiff slacks and perched, watching the face intently. The static curled through the room calm, no reaction comes from the Thin Man. Mono tried to decide how long the Thin Man was rest, but the tall thin man was already out when he found him. It wouldn’t matter either, the Thin Man might have dream haunts or just wake when he felt like it.

Satisfied by the lack of any reaction, Mono put his weight on his arms and clambered onto the Thin Man’s lap. He scooted in close to the tol man and tucked his arms against his chest, then could nestle against the Thin Man’s tummy and listen for the static rustling. His hat bent awkwardly against his ear, but he was used to that. Warmth, but no rest. Someone had to be watch. As always, the task was left to Mono. He could be comfortable for a while, and have together; even if it was not real. It wasn’t really fake, either. It was important for Mono.

Skittery and off creaking did draw Mono from his quiet musings and calm. Mostly the walls groaning, a draft slicing through the distant window. He set focus on the main corridor, where something unspeakable would enter with bellowing and flailing arms. Sighing, he pressed his face into the edge of the jacket and kept one eye open, needle point attention directed on all of their surroundings.

She... the Six. The time with her reminded him about stuff that happened before the Thin Man, when he packed with other kids. Real pack. Not what he did with the Thin Man. That was forever ago and somehow felt much further away, even when he found Her again. She tried to throw him away once, but the Thin Man was there… he didn’t remember much before Her, and sort of forgot about her when he had the Thin Man. His head was foggy about everything he did to steal her back – he remembered the Tower, and doors. The light was bright and things floated around, but not Mono. Mono fell.

He tightened up into his coat more, and thought about the bird. Well, not the bird. The Thin Man took him from that place, and put him in another. He gave him a box to rip apart, and it had the food stuff inside. The Thin Man left the way he always did, and Mono had to go look for him again. Some other things happened. Another monster different from the Viewers and wandering through a building. Mono tricked it. He was good at tricks. He was getting better at catching birds. He was not good with keeping friends, though. At least he could be with the Thin Man sometimes. Thanks to Mono, the Thin Man stayed safe. It was a full time busy, but it made important.

Eventual. That was something the Thin Man always made story about. The event'eels. He always talked about the place where Mono would be, and there would be good stuff and friends. Lots of other children.

But he didn’t want other children or good stuff. The best was when he had his Thin Man, and when he was happy to be around Mono. At the same time, the creeping sense tinkled the back of his thoughts, reminding him that this wasn’t forever. Like all the others, the Thin Man had to go away too. Would he go back to the Tower and wait for some other kid to sum’en him? Maybe the Thin Man would just get bored with Mono and go stay with the other children, even if they didn’t like the tall man or his hat. He didn't understand anything about the Thin Man. except the keep children and watch them. That was what all the scrawled pictures of the silhouette and the hat meant, the children saw the Thin Man.

The edge of the city was still out there. It had a beginning, there had to be border somewhere. If it wasn’t a myth. It had been forever since he saw anything other than the tall spire in the distance, observing the ruined world it presided over. Or any other sort of landmark that to suggest a region beyond city roads and crowding skyrises existed. One day – not today but someday – he would try again to hurt the Tower. Then, the city might crumble away like the glitching children he tried to hug. Then, he wasn’t for sure but the idea did creep into him, if the Tower was tricked, it would never know where he would go, where he would be. It would all stop.

Maybe he would escape to the edge of the city and the open forests beyond the towering buildings. Forests and thick trees, like in the books he flipped through. Forests had animals, and biggest scary animals. The Hunters forests was very dangerous, what if all forests had big Hunters with thunder sticks and they fought the largest beasts? He barely got away from one Hunter. If not for….

Mono had strange ideas when it was quiet. His head always like to wander and plan. Someday….

He sniffled and pried himself away from the warmth of the Thin Man’s coat. He scrambled off the couch and dashed to the entrance of the corridor. He huddled by the wall, plucking debris out of his coattail. Not long following the retreat, the static on the air hummed. He plucked his head up and fixed his hat, when the Thin Man began to shift. The bent standing lamp flickered, as the tall thin man gave the room a short examination; he looked at the book left on the cushion beside him, before drawing his hand with the smoke stick wedged there, up to his face. The eyes beneath the hats sheltered rim gleamed as the orange ember blazed. It was always so neat the way the Thin Man did that.

No dream haunts. He would be in a good mood.

Mono left the shelter of the threshold and returned to the Thin Man. He ventured over to the long legs and patted the Thin Man on the shin, then turned and tottered off. Coattail flashing and legs whirling. He did debate taking a rest first, but it was important to do a scout through the lower stories; check for foods, see what the Viewers would be up to. Deal with them, too. A kids work was never done.

It’s the usual sort of hassle to haul something, in this case a large pot from the kitchen, to the entry. Even harder, pulling the door shut from the outside. But he has a solid scheme for getting the door secured and in order, allowing him to start off without alerting anything hazardous lurking around.

The rickety groaned in greeting around him. Some of the doors along the hall hung open, and the wind within windows spat at his passenger. No other sounds breached the symphony of the building, only the ruin of the walls ached by the wind and the rains sending rivers of water cascading down the walls. He reached the corridors turn and crept up to the corner, checking around the edge before moving out fully. On this side the floor was in worse shape, large gaps in the panels showed the rooms beneath.

A lever for an elevator does nothing when he pulled it. It might have something to do with the loose cable dangling inside the shaft. He has no problem grabbing the stiff cable and letting himself down, the dark of the chute surrounding him like an icy blanket. Through the walls trickled the rains seeking paths within the flanking walls, gurgling like the Flesh brewing between the cracks and surging across the floor. It was always there watching him, laughing at his struggles with getting to Her.

The sing box laughed at him too, didn’t it? He hated that so much. It knew he wanted with everything in his power to get her away, and fix everything that was wrong. Fight the Tower… or save his Six. He chose Six.

By the time he reached the only level with the open gate, his eyes burned with dust. He angled himself on the cable and leapt off, his feet made a satisfying Plop when he touched down. The floor creaked some as he renewed his running, choosing a lit corridor to the right rather the dim hall stretching into obscurity ahead.

Something might lurk that way. Cover first, listen, then scout around. He also made an effort to rub the wetness off his face before he got too carried away. He didn’t need to stumble into anything that would be rooting around for the sounds. There was no such thing as being too careful, just kids stole and never seen again.

From his recollection, these levels were very high up and the only way Mono could reach them was by crawling within the walls and sneaking through some vents. If there had been an easier way up, like a stairway or another elevator that worked, he would have used that. He wasn’t really sure if the window he entered from was attached to these floors and rooms he wandered through, sometimes the buildings leaned into each other and the only way to navigate the city was through the internal bridges of the connected corridors. A lot of times he did navigate the lower floors, and would get stranded from the upper stories because of a collapse or some other travel – such as a formally study rope snapping.

Mono was sure this time would be fine. He knew these corridors very well, and there were no Viewers lurking in the rooms he scouted through. No televisions crooning either, though the buzzing boxes no longer held the same draw over the creatures the way it used to.

Out on the streets, he had watched from a high brick wall as a Viewer trudged past a television sitting on a mound of cracked asphalt. Nothing stopped the Viewer from reaching the screen or the soft chatter of the song tunes, but the adult marched on by.

And came right over to where Mono was perched, and gawked up at him.

It was expected, but the whole thing still unsettled Mono. Which was why he had not chosen a side to hop off the wall. The Thin Man warned him the Viewers had been… zesty. Or testy? Something Eee about the televisions and not looking at them.

Thus far, none of the rooms had produced anything that could interest him. He crept along a countertop, working to get the upper cabinets opened with a thin pipe he plucked up. It was too light to be a weapon, and bent easily when the broken cupboards refused to share their secrets. He’d like to take the metal thing to the Thin Man and see what he would do with it, but he couldn’t climb with it and didn’t have a way to hook it onto his coat ring.

He sat beside the cabinet, fiddling with the ring on his coat and trying to bend the pipe, but something in the doorway caught his attention.

It was a flash of something fast, and he twisted around to face the other entry fully. There was another doorway he had been facing, but that led deeper into the home. It would be bad to get trapped in the dwelling, but he wasn’t worried about the thing he saw.

Taking the pipe along, he rushed to the threshold where he saw the movement. When he reached the edge of the doorframe, he crouched low and watched the large room.

As he knew, it was an other child. The Thin Man must have been looking for them. This realization made Mono’s chest tighten. They must be lost. The kid was sneaking further along the wall, across from where he huddled and watched. The kid snuck and glanced around, but didn’t notice Mono yet. When the other kid was near the doorway at the other wall, Mono inched away from his hide spot crept after them.

The other kid navigated through the next room. Their face skimmed over furniture and a collapsing bookshelf, but none of the furniture gave much hide space. The only way out of the room was a vent close to the floor. Mono didn’t wait for them to disappear into the dark passage, and scurried into the room,

“Psst. Hey.” He didn’t stay in the open, and ducked under a nearby table when the other kid looked back. Now that they faced him, he decided they might be a girl, in a very oversized sweater or some other kid of shirt thick with thick fiber. It might’ve been all the kid wore, since it came down all the way to their knees. He couldn’t tell and that wasn’t important.

“Woo,” the kid called back. She(?) turned and went to the opening of the vent, but stalled there to twist around and beckon to him. Then she slipped into the gloomy passage. The thudding noises hummed back into the room, soft and careful the way children stalked through the hollowed passages to avoid alerting creatures.

Without wasting any more time, Mono scampered to the flue and crawled inside. The pipe clonked the walls when he tried to haul it inside, so he ditched it in favor of catching up. It didn’t take him long to reach the other child in the vent, he was good at skipping on his fingers and keeping his strike fluid. He was always good at flee and hide.

“Hey.” In the faint glow from an open vent above, the other kid glanced back at him. Used the familiar speek.

“Ladder?” he murmured. They didn’t respond, but they didn’t hit him or shove at him away. The kid only turned and kept moving through the vent.

“Him? He cooed. “For him?” They weren’t going the right way to find the tall then man, but she might was still searching around the lower floors. Was she protecting the Thin Man? That was his job!

It was some crawling and narrow turns in the vent, somewhere the walls buckled from a collapse. At some point it would cave in entirely, but he didn’t worry about that. Mono scooted out of the opening after the girl, his hand gunked up by something on the floor.

“Hey.” He tugged on the girls sleeve, and she looked over at him. “Mono.” He placed his palms over his chest, and repeated, “Mono.”

The girl tilted her head, her brows knitted in a strange way. She didn’t say anything, she just scuffed her heel on the floor. Her feet were strange, not like his. “Chi’va’yus cajuh yasstumah?”

It was Mono’s turn to tilt his head. “Cah…chus?”

“Tah muveus Polski?” she whispered.

Mono let his gaze drift away from the girl, his focus roaming the room and its furnishings. He wondered if the girl came here and waited for the Thin Man.

“Seer de chuztam.” She reached for his hand, but Mono was quick to snap his arm away and brush past the girl. He wandered over to the doorframe and crouched there, checking up and down the hall to either side. The doors along the corridor hung open, and from the pale glow of bulbs gleamed a sort of sheen on the carpet.

“Psst.” The girl inched out of the threshold, her eyes seeking the gloomy portals punched into the doorways. She kept close to the wall, sifting around the bundles of rubbish bags splinting along the seams.

Mono went the other direction, choosing to poke through the open rooms that looked deserted. One of the doors creaked from the gale blasting through the whole in a wall, where the window probably should have been. He wandered over to the edge where the floor splintered and broke away, his feet slipping somewhat on the wood greased by rains and silt. A gust snatched at his hat, but he was swift to snag it back before the rains swatted at his scalp.

He stood high above the rolling mist, watching the dark threads swirl downward to the obscurity of wherever the city and its buildings, and roads, and all the places existed below. The two worlds of the city, the places in the woven roads cutting through smaller buildings, and then the skyrises that stretched into the clouds – erasing the roads. He never didn’t think much about how he reached the summits of the roofs, or the trial of returning the roads below. The buildings were vertical island, each isolated by a sea of insubstantial storms clawing at the foundation. Why did the buildings exist? Who made them? To worship the Tower?

Mysteries that didn’t concern children. They offered food, they provided shelter from the storms, but once he was high into the structures the world below vanished. Ceased existing.

While exploring through one of the other rooms – not torn open and gaping at the clouds – he discovered a nest of toys and the picture speek on walls. He would have jumped onto the pile of soft plushies, but  something was wrong with them. And it was not the scatter of leather wrapped bones layered among the bulbous arms and glassy eyes.

Before really examining the nest, he searched above. The homes always had weird crust and tattered stuff dangling from the windows, and cloth unraveling across the floor – it always caught his toes if he wasn’t careful. Something about the lacey threads on the walls and glistening in the flicking bulb, made him very uneasy. He supposed it was something he had not seen before, but it often worked that unusual things lingering around was not something to dismiss.

The Morgue Hospital was one place where a kid could never let their guard down.

Rather prod at the nest itself, he plucked up a piece of wood from the floor and dug it into the layering. It was silty and dusty, and sort of crusty too. It also held fast to the board like syrup. He didn’t fool around with it much aside from that, and let the flint of wood to its new home.

The other rooms were in the same condition, but Mono took careful scrutiny of the floors and the spaces beneath the furniture. When he first tried to enter a room, his foot caught on something and he tumble to his knees. A bit noisily.

That prompted him to scurry for the nearest chair, but when he got too near it his eyes caught a shimmer of something that made him full stop. Which caused another stumble, with how his foot was now sticky and caught on the flakes of wallpaper on the floor. He ignored that in favor of turning his head, and adjusting his hat enough to peer under the chairs legs.

More of the lacey stuff that shimmered. It looked more like cloth with how thick it coated the chair, but when light from a nearby lamp hit the strands just right, it made the fiber shimmer like filthy water. It looked colorful, like the light from inside the….

A trill of alarm lit the back of his mind.

Now that he was scanning the room over more carefully, his eyes could fix on the shimmering substance sleeked across the walls. At first, he thought it was just from the rains trickling across the drywall the way it always did. Water found its way into everything, despite how deep he burrowed into the walls. But this shimmering wasn’t really moving, it was glinting with each buzz of the light bulb. And also, the gurgling from water was not here. The room was near silent, except for the distant hum of the storm.

Mono did his best to scrap the gunk off the pad of his foot, then scurried from the room. He searched the high walls now, putting the pieces of an ominous puzzle together.

A lot of the rooms had no food. Viewers meant food. The rooms were vacant. Empty. But not abandoned.

“Hey,” he risked. Calling and hissing as he peeked into the rooms. Something about the shimmering wisps swaying in the drafts made him uneasy. He knew it was bad, he knew there was danger. But he didn’t know what. Only what would happen. “Psst.”

Some sort of Whump! rebounded from a distant doorway. It startled Mono into a crouch, and he hid beside the wall listening and judging from what made that sort of bump. For an extended time he remained huddled, looking like nothing but apart of the heap of garbage he stayed beside. It took had the streak of shiny stuff, but he didn’t get close to it.

No other sound alarmed him. Slowly, he uncoiled himself and padded over to the doorway. It was open a crack, with a blade of light peeking out. He slid into the room, checking the walls for anything that might be using the distant cloak of black to shelter terrible intent. Nothing alarmed his already leery thoughts, which led him to search the next pressing eyecatcher.

The girl was over beside the bottom cabinets, laying on her side. This alarmed Mono, especially when an other kid shuffled in closer to her.

Mono gave a snort as he sprang into the room fully, his arms bent at his sides and shoulders squared up. His most intimidating threat for other kids. He was ready to tackle someone.

The brash launched proved to be premature, since the other girl was slowly pushing herself into sitting upright. The bulb above the oven range flashed, momentarily casting darkness through the room. The new kid swiveled toward Mono’s direction and flapped his arm.

No fight, no anger. That was good. And a kitchen, too. Mono cast his gaze across the cabinets, and took in the mugs and junk he could see over the edge of the countertops. Some of the lower cabinets had been opened, but it didn’t look like the two kids had found anything.

“Hey,” he called, as he moved closer to the packmates. It was familiar, like… Her, and him. Together. The thought made him take a deep breath of the musty air.

The other girl slowly climbed to her feet, slow and awkwardly from the bad fall. She made a strange gesture at Mono, which spurred him to skid on his footpads and draw back a step.

It was the way her arm moved. It was broken, but then… she wouldn’t be moving. Not when there was no danger and no flee. The girl sort of raised her arm like a line was tied to her elbow, with her wrist and then hand trailing in a strange direction. It looked more unsettling than the Patients locked in the Morgue Hospital. Why did her arm move that way?

The girl swung her arm again, and the same uncanniness swarmed his thoughts. She took a step back and as she did so, her head sort of tilted back. Not all the way, but enough to convince Mono to take a step back himself.

“Hmm?” he cooed. He watched the boy, who was now inching towards him. When the light brightened once more, the eerie condition of the new child raised panic in Mono. The kid wasn’t wearing a shirt and the pants plastered to his legs had rotted to threads. He was thin, but the texture of his skin and the way the light glistened over the hollows in his ribs… was wrong. Like his bones snaped apart and were trying to drill out.

With morbid fascination, he watched the other kid as their arm made another flapping motion. The other arm dangled at their side like a hollowed shirt sleeve and thinner than a thread, if not for the fingers dangling from the end of that arm Mono might have missed it.

The girls feet scuffed the floor. But she stopped moving. So did the new boy. They stopped moving, but stood and gave him those eerie arm—

Mono’s hair stood on end, and in a flash he had teleported a good ways to the side, nearly colliding with a cabinet. Not a moment after, something whizzed by his shoulder and bowled into the new kid. Mono steadied himself on the cupboard door and backed away, aware he should flee and never look back.

But that had been fast. And absolutely silent.

The other kids flailing arms knocked the girl down as well. She crashed hard to her backside, skull cracking on a discarded knife. The other kid… sort of fell apart.

He was in pieces of limbs. An arm, a leg, a foot tangled up in the lacey gunk coating the cupboards. His head was still rolling, and just gone by the time the oven light pulsed again.

The parts of the kid that did not scatter unraveled. But Mono did not need to see what emerged to put the final pieces together.

A set of sharp limbs descended over the girls body. The creature did nothing to her, but turned its glittery fangs towards the other thing unfolding from the other kids chest.

Mono tried pushing away from the cabinet, but one hand was caught on the gummy silky that decorated the rooms and the child nest. The substance stuck between his fingers and across his palms like gluey trap (something adults sometimes used), it felt like he’d pop his hand off if he pulled any harder.

A lot of rustling and clacking came from the creatures. The spider things. The one that tried to tackle Mono was getting menaced by the one that tore apart the boys body. As for the girl, she sort of rolled over as she struggled to stand. Beneath mess of stringy hair, a set of sharp legs wound up and tucked back into the base of her skull.

Mono could not tug hard enough. He dug his heels into the floor, aware if he smashed his feet into the cupboard he would be triple stuck. The floor here looked safe, but dusty. He tried scooping up handfuls of silt and throwing them at the goopy threads adhered to his palm, but that didn’t seem to be doing enough. It would have been bad if the door popped open with al his struggling, but the whole thing was attached to the cabinets. And the spiders were done hissing at each other, they turned the glossy black eyes towards him. So many eyes, all directed at him.

He hated being looked at!

As the light flashed again, some beside Mono caught his eye. He swept up the shard of glass and jammed that into the space between his hand and the cabinet. Somehow, it did bite through the matted gunk holding him fast, and also churned at the wood splinter he ground it into. Mono dropped to his rump as he continued jamming the blade into the soft wood, tearing up more threads than wood. He bucked hard, fighting the urge to kick at the door. He was making progress, he was going to get loose.

The spiders things hurtled at him right when he gave a final cleave with the glass piece, and gave his body a hard turn – dragging his arm away from the cupboard, but nearly ripping the socket from its joint. Pain was nothing compared to the ghastly sickles drawing up beneath the bristly legs.

Mono launched aside, catching him on his palms before shooting up into a sprint. One of the spider things produced an audible crash when it hit the door, but the other ground to a halt and began turning on its several sharp limps. As he rushed for the doorway he glance over his shoulder, certifying that neither of the two creatures had renewed the chase. On the other side, the girl was just sitting slouched beside the cupboards and no longer moving. Except for the mound of hair coating the nape of her neck.

All the hall looked the same he thought every stretch of glittery patch had something eerie poking from the pockmarked walls. Mono didn’t stop or take second glances, at his back the prattling feet found their heading. The creature was moving fast.

Some of the debris scattered throughout the hall did slow the creature, though. Mono scrambled over a suitcase or a hunk of chair, whereas the spider thing had to adjust its footing. He only took another glimpse to check its progress, a risky look. The spider and the other one had caught up with it, and to his relief that bickered about where the many legs would go. It was still two spiders and him.

To his dismay he couldn’t find a way out of the dwelling, except for the vent where he and the other kid came in. The spiders would untangle from the next fight and come for him, though he didn’t want to be in the vent confined with those things. The room didn’t have anyplace where he could hide and no other way for flee.

He dove into the vent and thundered across the walls and floor, the sides twisted around him like a certain pathway undulating with flesh. The path beneath his feet was not disintegrating, but the rapping scamper of those ugly legs were gaining on him. A pitiful whimper spilled form Mono as he galloped towards the musty cutout of light growing in the distance. Something scaly and ugly swiped at his ankle, that only told him he was going too slow. Yet he couldn’t fold and kick his legs fast enough in the confined space, and at the last stretch to fresh air he tumbled. His hat went flying. Something caught against his shoulder as he spun over, kicking at the sharp ends flailing at his face. He couldn’t see anything of the creature, except the glitter of its eyes and the dew of juice fluttering on a curved fang.

The thing at Mono’s back pinched his hip. It occurred to him that he dropped something in the flue, and before the thought finished blooming entirely he had the spike bent upward. It still had a kink in the tip, but the spider latched all five arms around Mono’s wonderful coat and dragged him into its embrace. An embrace that was obstructed by the sharp spike.

Mono cringed back into the sharp legs, the entire sprawl of the spiders width twitched, the sickle fangs unfurled further apart than what he thought possible. But it moved no further near him, and the creatures iron hold eased by a fraction. With a final sputter, the legs went rigid and Mono was able to sag backwards beside the pole. He couldn’t release it yet, but he did lock the rear tip into a notch in the vent. This wasn’t the time to pause or catch his breath. Not far within the passage, the clatter of many legs raced after the scene of internal juices oozing down the pipe.

Coiling in own legs up under him, Mono supplied a strong kick to the underside of the first spider. This dislodge the sharp claws from his coat and got him away from the hovering fangs. He twisted and wretched, some of the hooks of the spiders legs tugged threads out of his most amazing coat. But the other spider picked up the pace without issue, its long legs speared through the gaps in the passage left by its slain brethren. The arched prongs narrowly missed Mono when he somersaulted backwards, an act when sent the top of his head smashing against the upper edge of the vents access.

Somewhat dazed but still conscious, Mono flopped from the opening and back into the open air of the room. The relentless spider creature beat at the carcass that obstructed its path, the shred of that moment gave Mono a chance to search the room for the exit; while his senses persisted to tip and twist. He was about to rush for the nearest doorway, on the far side of the room. However, the chittering of the sharp legs on the hard floor reminded him of fake children, jeering at him.

Stealing Her.

To his right loomed a rickety bookcase, most the shelves barely tethered. Too dangerous to climb and no place to go. Not that he needed it to take him anywhere.

Mono pivoted on his toes and launched at the bookcase. The first shelf he caught snapped under his hand, but he was already skipping up to the second on third slate without issue. With each hike and leap, the entire structure quaked against his forceful strides. The fifth shelf snapped under his foot right as the entire frame buckled sideways, the left wall disconnected from the inner slates and swayed while Mono dangled by his fingertips. With the creaking wood, he couldn’t decide where the spider creature had gone too – had it followed, or was it spooked away? A mystery for another time, Mono focused on finding purchased with one of his feet as the walls swayed and began to tilt. All falling forward, with him still locked on.

With a mighty leap, Mono took a blind leap to the side. Just the same way when he knocked down the key. He landed on a patch of matted pages from a garbage bag, but managed to roll aside as the entire bookcase came cascading down. Not far from where Mono touched down, the second spider creature was retreating backwards from the books and other junk flying off the broken slates. The ugly creature didn’t stand a chance, by the time it scooted all the way around to evade the shelves completely, the slates cleaved through its body – this was followed by the whole rocking explosion of the walls and whatever else still loaded the remaining shelves.

Mono staggered back from the silt kicked up, and used an arched arm to bar the wall of dust from burying his senses. This didn’t save from two stifled sneezes, both of which felt explosive in the empty crackle of the cataclysms wake.

No sign of the spider thing survived. It had to be tricked or suffering. He hoped it suffered.

Mono plucked up a bit of wood and chucked it at the bookcase. He snatched up a chunk of drywall, then a hunk of plaster; each item produced a sharp clatter as he propelled them at their target. The spider thing was tricked. Both of them. They wouldn’t be bothering any other kids.

For several minutes, Mono stood glaring at the bookcase, his fists knotted up at his sides. He wanted to drag the spider back out and trick it again – stitch it back together, then pull it apart. Over and over. He wanted to drown it, and bite it, and beat it with a heavy pipe. Hurt it again and again until he didn’t have anymore hurt in himself.

He HATED IT!

Without another thought of the scene, he whipped around and sprint out of the room. He didn’t care he lost another hat, he didn’t care about anything but getting far away from the dust and silence.

By the time he navigated his way out of the dwelling and back into the familiar open corridors, Mono had calmed down. Sort of. He stopped thinking about the crooked legs knitting behind the girls stringy hair, or the boys flesh unraveling from his bones, or the way the skin—

He shook out of the daze, realizing he was gawking at an open window in one of the corridors derelict ends. The wind moaned against the slapping and sodden rags dangling beside the broken glass, the lone remaining plank of wood rattled as the gale tugged at it. Tick-Tick… tick-tick… tick-tock. Tick-tock… tick.

Hovering high in the misty distance was the gleaming eye of the sharp spire, ever watchful of the buildings and citizens of the city. And possible Mono.

‘It calls to me.’

And Six stared at him from the void of the dark hood. The coat made Her important, just like the wonderful coat made him important. They would flee and escape all the terrible things that wanted to make them fail. He wouldn’t let them fail. They would hurt the Tower. He would show Her how. He showed her a lot of things for safe and flee, and how to pack.

Something blasted past the window, cutting out the sheets of rain only briefly. The shape was followed by a crackling wail but in the next moment it was gone, as if that never happened. The Signal Beacon seemed to smolder brighter like the eyes of the Hunter within the stitched sack.

Wandering around with nothing to show for it, Mono meandered his way back to the elevator chute with the stiff cord. It was just as cold and clammy as the time he slipped down, and climbing back up was no more a challenge than trying not to lose his grip. The metal was not as comforting as a sheet or tangled shirt, it wouldn’t give under his vice grip and only seared into his fingers like blades. He had to take a moment after leaping off and back onto solid ground to get his bearings, and rub the fresh tear in his palm. He tried not to remember how he got that. He did flee, that was all that mattered.

He ran away. The fastest got away, the slowest stalled the monsters.

Getting the door of the room shut was much easier when he could shove it from the other side. There wasn’t much reason for making the door shut, it was just a habit. As he suspected, when he went to the big room with the couch the space was empty.

He took a breath, feeling the stale air on his tongue. The door was shut, and after a short scout he would curl up someplace and rest. That jittery sensation hadn’t dissolved from his skin, every scrap of shadow or twitch of the light put a quivering panic into his skin. Static flakes bristled off his coat like a TV was around, but he ignored that in favor of keeping watch of his surroundings.

So lost in thought was he, the steady tick and tapping slipped by his hyper tuned radar. Up until long fingers swept around his body and lifted him high.

Mono snarled and began fighting. All his retaliation went into bites and clawing, but he was no match for the suffocating grip tightening around his chest.

“Child,” crackled the Thin Man. “Where have you been hiding? I could not sense you.”

The abrupt sound did not ease Mono one bit, and he renewed his gnawing on the boney knuckles. Especially when he was adjusted and pressed to the coarse tweed of the Thin Man’s jacket. He bit down so hard his jaw ached, and his sore tooth stabbed into his jaw.

“Shh. None of that.” The Thin Man moved. Or glittered and filled Mono’s head with the pulsing chatter of static; his own skin buzzed with the sensation, while the tired lamp flickered by the wall. The tall man pried him away and began prodding his body, nudging hard at his torso or plucking at his legs. Mono gave his usual growl of agitation, his arms scrabbled with the Thin Man’s wrists but he failed to dislodge himself from the fingers locked around his waist. “Why are you like this?”

A steady hum filled the air around Mono’s head, as the Thin Man glared at his restrained arm. Mono kicked at nothing, the Thin Man wasn’t near enough to get smacked.

“Do you ever not manage to maim yourself? Boy.”

The glitchy distortion sent his head into a spiral, though nothing happened, aside from the Thin Man easing down to sit on the couch. As for Mono, with a growl he latched onto the space between the Thin Man’s thumb and forefinger. The Thin Man did nothing but crackle about him never getting all bloodied, or whatever. Mono focused on chewing on the hand.

“Why do I bother tending your wounds,” warbled the man in the hat. “Your mission is to wander off and get brutalized. More blood is on that coat than in you.”

The lack of reaction made Mono clamp down tighter, even if it did nothing. Maybe something would change. He would make something change. A disapproving gust reminded him that his hat was still missing.

“Very well. Get it out of your system.”

The fingers pressed into his spine and Mono hated it. He hated being small and not doing anything right. The Thin Man would find out Mono messed up, and another kid was gone. That was why the Thin Man didn’t want him around the other kids. He was danger and he didn’t like when Mono disappeared, cause the kids….. The Thin Man would find them. Nothing stopped the Thin Man.

“There is no need to blubber like that,” the voice crackled in his ears. “You found me. Such a clever little boy.”

“Little,” Mono murmured.

“Yes.” The hands fixed around his shoulders moved, and he could pluck his head up to see the shadowed face of the man and his hat gaze down on him, the eyes glinting. “Such a little self-important boy. You believe the world revolves around you.”

Mono couldn’t fathom what all the speek meant. He repeated without direction, “Little.”

“Little,” the static affirmed. “You are certainly not tall. Not for some time.”

The Thin Man made such strange speek. Always about ‘event-yulls’ and ‘pare-doxes’ or ‘somedays’. The tall thin man always insisted, one day he would be gone. Mono was always meant to be alone. Always.

Why could he not keep the Thin Man? It must have to do with the danger and the other children. The Thin Man didn’t know anything about the other kids. Someday that would all change. Just like Mono would fight the Tower, the Thin Man would have to go, too.

Mono was barely getting his feet tucked up and his face buried back into the Thin Man’s suit, when the hands pulled him away and set him on the cold floor. He didn’t stay put – he couldn’t! The Thin Man was already glitching across the room, his shoes tapped across the floor in their rhythmic way. The tall figure only paused in the archway briefly, the lamp barely catching the shimmery glint of static before the Thin Man disappeared.

It took Mono more time to reach the Thin Man. It did help that the Thin Man didn’t keep moving, and was even looking back as Mono rushed down the corridor. The tallest figure in all the city even stayed still as Mono raced all the way to him, his own steps slowing when he was a few steps from the shoes. Mono tilted his head far back and found the shining eyes watching him from beneath the shadow of the important hat.

A shiver twisted at Mono’s spine. He didn’t want the Thin Man to find out about the other kids. He wanted the Thin Man to stay and have company. And also – it scared him to think though – Mono didn’t care about the other kids. He didn't. This always happened, they ran away. They left Mono or got stole, or hurt him. The Thin Man didn't understand anything about children. He was too tol.

Even though he didn’t get a good look at the girl, he knew her face would find its way into his dream haunts. She was nothing but one of the many he failed, and the memories would haunt him. And he hated her for getting tricked. It wasn’t his FAULT! I̵t̸ ̴ w̷a̷s̵n̷'̴t̷!̷

He jolted when a weight settled onto his head. Roughly.

It was the Thin Man’s palm. He gave Mono’s head a rough pat before straightening and glitching away. The silhouette flashed further down the hall. The gesture didn’t make Mono feel better, it did the opposite. The act did mean something to Mono, and that was the Thin Man didn’t mind him chasing. Nothing would happen to the Thin Man. He wouldn't let it.

Choking back some of the knotting in his chest, Mono broke into another run. He chased after the steady threading of static humming in the dwelling, simmering beneath the cracking clicks of the Thin Man’s steps. Tick-tick, tick-tock – the same sharp chiming that rolled through the endless corridor Mono spent ages trying to reach the end of. Opening that door had been the worst thing he’d ever done, but it had also been his most favorite.

If not for the Thin Man trying to keep Her and him, then Mono would have no one.

Next

[basaltbutch]

oh you know what. remembered i was partially raised by dogs. that might explain some things about me.

[azucar-skull]

The psychologist in me has several theories on how the child would grow up to be like--

Part 2!

The Child is backkkk>:D

Previous

Masterpost

[nikolaibelinski]

me watching mishka rub herself all over a dead snake

[nosyrobin]

My sibling, my rules….

Damian Wayne x BabyBat!reader

Summary: baby bat is going to go on a play date, but a certain bird wants to keep playing with their dear sibling.

“Damian…” dick had said in a weary tone. He wasn’t sure how to approach his younger brother holding the newest and youngest addition to the family. Damian held that feral rage in his eyes just like when he first attacked dick when he had came into Gotham.

“You have to let them go, they have a scheduled play date. It’s for the best..” Damian’s eyes slimmed as he took a step back from dick. Dick was trying to be patient with the smaller boy, only for Damian to book it. Sliding under dick’s legs and running out the door.

“Damnit….” Dick says, running a hand down his face. He started to chase after the 10 year old boy holding the 4 year old child. You babbled against Damian’s chest, your mushy baby brain hadn’t picked up on Damian’s mischievous behavior on how he is basically gate keeping his halfblood brother.

Damian looked down as he also watched where he was going. “Don’t worry brother, your big brother is gonna watch and take care of you. You don’t need unnecessary play dates with those disease filled rodents.” He seethes as he looks behind him to see dick catching up. He smirks as he takes a sharp left turn around the corner.

As dick hit the corner, Damian was gone in sight of you. But still being cautious, dick took steady steps. Each step felt like something might as well launch at him. Which was right when he felt a crashing pain in his knee. Dick yelled with pain, clutching it as Damian came out of no where holding you with one hand while the other held a bat. He dropped the bat as dick just hisses in pain.

Damian smirked in triumph as he raised you up like the movie lion king where Simba is introduced. Dick just groans at his knee as he looks at Damian in rage.

“My sibling, my rules.”

[eomayas]

distracted • hjs

pairing: husband&dad!joshua, wife&mom!reader, established relationship

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!! fluff, parent au, non-idol au

synopsis: reader is literally just feral for joshua

warnings: pwp, p in v, oral (m receiving), riding, praise, dirty talk, soft!dom!josh, breeding, josh calls reader a ‘slut’ (lovingly) once, reader & josh are parents, reader losing her mind over josh mainly. JOSHUA ARMS. unedited ;)))

a/n: i’ve experienced extreme joshua brainrot lately then did an extreme deep dive of jarms (joshua arms) until 2 in the morning. i am unwell and need him like a fish needs water

joshua pushes the shopping cart that holds groceries, and your daughter in the front of the basket, down the aisle. you trail a step or two behind them, mind a bit foggy and… distracted. you don’t know what it is, he’s just wearing a plain, white tshirt and blue jeans—he’s worn it before—and you’re running errands together like you always do. but today is different, and you can’t seem to comprehend a single thing going on around you, or really look at your husband without feeling mild insanity.

first, you’d wandered into the store in a daze, forgetting that joshua was grabbing the shopping cart with your daughter, after having sat in the front seat watching him drive for twenty minutes. his hand sat steady at ten and two, ever the safe driver when your daughter was present, though at stop lights he would sometimes grab your hand or settle his palm on your leg. you felt lost since the morning, woke up with your mind cloudy and your brain foggy just at the mere sight of him.

then, you couldn’t remember a single thing on your grocery list. in your clouded state, you must’ve forgotten the list in the kitchen; it wasn’t a big deal, except for the fact that you literally couldn’t think about a single thing that you needed to buy, and you are usually the one leading the pack around the store. so the three of you have been wandering around the grocery store for longer than you want to be, circling back to the same aisles you’ve already been on because you can’t remember what it is you need to buy.

now you’re back in the dairy aisle, unsure of why you’re back because youve already grabbed milk and cream cheese, so you’re just standing in front of the cold, double doors without a single thought in your head. “yogurt, maybe?” joshua tries, pausing his conversation with your child to help you out. you blink once, twice before mumbling out a ‘right’ and pulling the doors open and grabbing a container.

“mommy, that’s not the right one!” your daughter whines when you drop it in the basket. she’s frowning at you, eyebrows crinkled the same way joshua’s do. god. you make the mistake of looking up at him, and your entire body flushes you meet his gaze. his eyes are soft but questioning, asking if you if you’re alright without actually saying it. no, i’m not, you think to yourself, discreetly sweeping your hand up your neck to check your pulse. it’s fast, and you’re definitely still alive.

joshua watches you with mild concern; he’s noticed your strange, avoidant behavior since this morning when he got back from the gym. you had looked almost surprised when he walked into your bedroom, like you weren’t expecting him back. your eyes widened, and your lips parted like you were going to say something but nothing came out. he beat you to words, anyway, giving you a soft ‘good morning’ that made you blush—he’d ignored it because you seemed… off—and kissed you on the lips. he thought he really smelled with the way you rushed your lips off of his and rolled out of bed, nearly tripping over your own feet. joshua grabbed you so you wouldn’t fall, and he felt you tense in his hold, a frown etching on his features. he brushed it off and asked if you wanted to shower with him, expecting a ‘yes’ from the look that flashed through your eyes, but you instead mumbled something about having to make breakfast before hurrying out of the bedroom all together. you basically avoided him all day since then, never really looking at him or talking to him directly—none of which you do on a constant basis.

the yogurt was, in fact, incorrect down to the brand and flavor. “i’m sorry, baby,” you say to your daughter, running a hand over her hair before grabbing the yogurt to swap it out for the correct one, this time taking a few seconds to scan everything in the fridge. you appreciate the cold air from the refrigerator, as it cools you down from the rush of heat you feel along your face and neck. you take a breath and tell yourself to get a fucking grip before dropping the correct item into the cart.

“daddy, can i get ice cream?” your daughter asks joshua as you start ambling through the grocery store. you cut your eyes at your daughter for not asking you, but you know it’s because joshua never says no to her.

“of course, princess,” and you watch with pure adoration as he places a kiss on her forehead and she just giggles, scrunching her shoulders up to her ears. joshua is a good husband, but he’s an even better father, and you love watching him interact with your daughter. they have a special connection that you love to witness, a secret language just between the two of them. it’s moment like this where you want another kid—or maybe it’s part of the hazy mess you’re in because of his sheer existence.

you follow behind joshua towards the ice cream aisle. the shirt he wears is tight on him, straining against his biceps and shoulders. you can make out his back muscles depending on how the light hits the fabric, and you feel even crazier than before. his muscles have been the source of your you distracted state today. joshua has always been muscular, and he’s always worked out, but something about him recently has flipped a switch in your brain that has made you feel absolutely feral every time you catch a mere glimpse of his arms—which is quite literally every day. this morning it was too overwhelming, him coming home and shedding his jacket to reveal himself in a simple black tank top that looked a size too small, and gray sweats that made you feel like you needed to go to confessional.

another rush of cold air pulls you out of your lustful daze and you stand at the back of the shopping cart as joshua shuffles through the cartons of ice cream, asking your daughter her input. you try to keep your eyes focused on your daughter, anything else, but cant help when they drift over to your husband, his arms flexing each time he grabs a pint and displays it to your daughter. joshua casts a glance at you, a smile that says can you believe this? when you daughter shakes her head for the fourth time, despite not asking to look for herself. you blush under his gaze, heat spreading down your neck and chest before settling in your stomach.

"i thought you liked the oreo one?" you say to your daughter, voice slightly hoarse. you smooth a hand over her hair to give yourself something to do, hands a little clammy from all of your nerves working overtime.

"i do..." she trails off, turning to look at you with a tiny pout on her lips.

"tell daddy before he freezes," you say, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. just the mere reference to joshua feels heavy in your mouth, makes your stomach flutter for reasons you can't really explain.

joshua places the pint of oreo ice cream into the cart, circling around to the front and playfully ticking your daughter under her chin. she giggles loudly and you smile as you watch her become a spitting image of her father. arms cage you between the carts handlebar and a firm chest, and suddenly your eyes are no longer on your kid but on the strong, veiny forearms that belong to your husband. “excuse me,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt to his voice like he knows that you’re losing your mind at the simple sight of him.

wordlessly, you gently grab his right arm to remove yourself from his entrapment. “hey,” joshua says softly, reaching out for your wrist as you move swiftly to get away from him. turning, goosebumps arise on your skin, and you tell yourself that it’s because his hands are ice cold. “you okay, honey?” your stomach flips and you press your lips into a small smile, nodding.

joshua stares at you for a beat before leaning down a few inches, silently begging for a kiss. you nearly combust at the thought, not trustworthy of yourself to behave normally in public. but his eyes are fond, and you love him so much and want him so bad that you raise up on your toes and brace yourself on his shoulders before delivering a soft, quick peck to his lips. you’re proud of yourself for holding back, but joshua isn’t satisfied because he stays leaned over in the spot you kissed him in for a few seconds after the fact that you’ve pulled away. if you were at home, he’d yank you back to him but because you’re in public he files that grievance away and straightens up.

“i want a kiss,” your daughter pouts, cutely crossing her arms over her chest. since she doesn’t specify from whom, both of you lean in and press kisses to her cheeks. her giggle ripples through you, filling your stomach with butterflies and your chest with a type of love reserved only for her. you’re momentarily pulled away from your joshua shaped daze, until his hand is settling on your lower back. it chilling, his touch, and it’s not because his hands are ice cold from standing in the grocery store freezer for two minutes.

a shiver runs up your spine and you slip out of his grasp, not paying attention to where or what you’re walking into until joshua is pulling you back into him, his hand splayed across your stomach and your back colliding with his chest. “babe, watch out,” a woman pushing a cart stops short, a look of remorse on her face.

“oh my god, did i hit you?” she asks, and you figure you must look injured or something, because she looks genuinely concerned for your wellbeing. the flush on your face is not due to the fact that you were almost ran over, but because joshua hasn’t moved his hand from your stomach and hasn’t put any distance between your back and his front. he stays pressed against you, holding you firmly in front of him, his hold tightening ever so slightly.

“n-no, i’m alright,” you manage, lips tingling. “i swear.” you add when her eyebrows don’t drop from her hairline. at that, she seems to believe you enough snd offers you a smile and a curt nod before hurrying down the aisle.

“are you alright, honey? you’re trembling,” joshua says, his deep voice like melted wax running down your back. you make the mistake of looking up and over your shoulder at him, his palm pressing into your lower belly.

he peers down at you with soft eyes, ready to question you again until your tongue darts out to wet your lips before you tuck your bottom lip under your top one and nod. he knows the look in your eyes all too well—hunger, but not for food—and heat pools in his chest. joshua is much better at hiding his desire for you, especially in public and in front of your child, and he’s able to keep his expression the same, pretending he never saw that look in your eye. “i’m fine,” you’re shuffling away from him again, this time checking to make sure you’re not seconds away from being ran over with a shopping cart.

somehow, you three mange to finish your shopping trip without anymore mishaps. it requires circling back to the same aisles more than once because neither you nor josh can remember what you wanted to buy, but at least you can say you’re done. joshua loads the groceries into the trunk while you buckle your daughter into the backseat. she yawns, stretching her little arms up and out. “sleepy?” you ask her, a small smile on your face.

“no,” she says, vehemently shaking her head. you chuckle hum a sound of disbelief before dropping a kiss on her forehead and going to the front seat. the trunk closes and you suck in a breath as you watch him in the rearview mirror. he brushes his hand through his hair, and even through the mirror and the tint of the trunk window, you can make out his bicep muscle flexing with the motion.

it’s nearly pathetic how horny you feel just looking at him—like an overgrown teenager who just got into their first relationship. except you’re an adult, married to this man, and this behavior is no longer considered ‘cute’.

joshua gets into the front seat and smiles at you, leaning over the console to give you a kiss. his hand rests on the side of your neck, and you wonder if he’s trying to check your pulse, to mess with you. you keep your hands to yourself, because if you touch him, you might never stop.

pulling back from your mouth, he looks into your eyes before flicking them back down to your lips. joshua starts to lean in but seems to remember you’re not alone, and sits back in his seat, his hand lingering on your neck for a moment before he starts the car and asks your daughter if she’s ready to go.

the car ride is quiet, save for your daughters yawns and insistence that she is not tired. she makes most of the noise, talking about random things that you and joshua entertain with ease. he watches her in the review mirror with real, unconditional love in his eyes. it does nothing to help your situation, and just makes you want to give him another baby.

when you arrive back at your house, you quickly get out of the car, grateful to get out of the stuffy, suffocating feeling of being in the front seat. you walk around the back and help your daughter out, ready to carry her inside until she exclaims, “i want to help!”

you ser her down on the ground and she runs over to joshua. you watch him give her two of the lighter bags of groceries, and raises her arms to show you, a big smile on her face. you smile back and press in the garage code and tell her to go inside of the house, seemingly leaving you and joshua alone. you sidle up next to him, and joshua lightly bumps his hip into yours. “hmm?” you question without looking up from the numerous bags in the back of the car.

“why are you avoiding me?” he asks, and the directness makes your hands clam up.

“i’m not avoiding you,” you say, taking a few grocery bags and backing up from him.

“you quite literally are.”

you stare up at him, his eyebrows knitted together in slight irritation. “i still love you, if that’s what you’re asking,” you clarify. his features soften and his shoulders relax a bit. those shoulders. your eyes drifts down his figure, lingering on his flexed forearms, veins bulging out from the tension of carrying the grocery bags.

joshua watches you obviously ogle and check him out, his entire figure relaxing at his realization. “oh, i get it now,” he teases, a slow smirk sliding across his lips.

“get what?” you play dumb, taking a tentative step backwards before turning around and trying to keep your walk casual as you walk through the garage. it’s so obvious you’re trying to keep space between the two of you, putting anything in the way to keep you off of him.

“that you wan-“ joshua cuts himself off because you push open the door that leads you into the house. he clears his throat and closes the garage door before following behind you into the kitchen. your daughter is standing on her tippy toes trying to reach a cupboard that’s way to high for her, concentration etched on her face. “need help, bub?” he asks, setting his bags down on the counter.

“i can’t reach,” she whines, yawning immediately after. joshua lifts her up into his arms and opens the cupboard for her abd allows her to put the item away. “i’m tired, daddy.” she rests her head on his shoulder, tiny arms encircling around his neck.

you watch them and you feel your heart grow three times in size, like the grinch. joshua coos at her and pats her head before agreeing to put her down for a nap. you busy yourself with unloading the groceries, stomach flipping at the thought of having at least an hour alone with your husband. you can’t believe how depraved you feel.

joshua comes back downstairs a few minutes later, right when you’re putting the last thing into the fridge. “you finished?” he asks. you nod, heart hammering in your chest as he walks over to you. his hands drop onto your hips, pulling you flush against him. you keep your eyes straight ahead, leveled wirh his chest, and joshua dips his head down to meet your eyes. “see: you’re avoiding me.”

hear creeps up your neck and you shake your head. “i’m not.”

“don’t try to gaslight me,” he teases, making you roll your eyes and finally look up at him. “there she is.” he murmurs, leaning down a few centimeters to connect your lips. your hands flatten against his chest, and he walks your backwards into one of the kitchen counters. joshua leans over you, trying to press you flat against the surface despite the lack of space.

“shua,” you breathe once you pull away when he unbuttons your jeans.

“what, you’ve got somewhere better to be?” he asks, arching one of his eyebrows.

“i… i have to do laundry…” you say halfheartedly. joshua laughs at this, dropping his forehead against yours. “i’m serious!” you say, but you’re smiling too. “i want to go back to avoiding you.”

joshua pulls back to look down at you, making a face that says for what? “i thought you wanted me to fuck you?”

“yeah, i’m afraid nothing will keep me off of you if we start,” you say honestly. joshua blushes deeply, a boyish grin on his face. “i want you so bad—i think i might be ovulating? i don’t know. i just want you so. bad.” you punctuate the last part with the press of your knuckles into his chest.

“you’re ovulating?” it’s like bells went off in his head.

“maybe, i don’t know. i don’t keep track of that shit. i just need an explanation for how i feel,” you say, hands sliding along his chest absentmindedly.

joshua raises both of his eyebrows at you, fake shock on his face. “maybe because you have a super hot and sexy husband who is also a really good father? just a hunch.”

“no, i don’t think that’s it,” he rolls his eyes at you and you giggle, balling his shirt up into your fists and pulling him down to you. joshua grips onto the counter to steady himself, his hold tight enough to turn his knuckles white. he presses his pelvis into yours, his his erection pressing against your leg.

joshua wraps an arm around you and splays his hand across the small of your back. he presses you down onto the counter and you grip his shoulders tightly, craning your mouth away from his to breathe out, “not here.” he pulls you up from the counter and looks down at you, his chest moving up and down quickly. you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he thinks about a place to fuck you that won’t bring attention to the two of you. “laund-ah!” he swoops you up into his arms easily, already carrying you in the direction of your laundry room before you can even get the entire word out.

you wrap your legs around his waist as you buzz with need and anticipation. you let yourself revel at being carried by him after lusting over his arms all day. he carries you like you’re weightless, with his his hands resting under your ass for support. “god,” you whisper to yourself, pressing a kiss into his neck.

“i love you,” he rasps as he enters the laundry room. he shuts and locks the door behind him before dropping you onto the washing machine. his hands are flying to undo the buttons of your blouse and you pull him closer using your ankles that are still wrapped around him.

“love you more,” you murmur, helping him with removing your top. “your turn.” your urge, pulling the hem of his shirt.

“sure you can handle it?” he teases. you flush and lightly push at his abdomen. “don’t wanna make you pass out or anything.” he smirks at you, loving to watch you squirm.

“i can handle it,” you say, feeling so embarrassed to even be in this position. luckily, joshua is sweet to you above all and draws you in for a kiss. you skate your hands up underneath his shirt, nails lightly scratching against his torso. “take it off.” you mumble against his lips, hands pushing up the material of his shirt. you feel like you could rip him out of the fabric.

joshua pulls back and makes an entire show of getting undressed. he runs a hand through his hair and purposefully flexes his bicep as he does so. if this was any other time, you’d roll your eyes and call him annoying. but today, all you can do is watch and try not to drool.

he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it into an empty laundry basket nearby. you waste no time leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. you move to kiss his jaw and then his neck, your hands sliding down his body. you kiss across his chest, going lower until the position becomes uncomfortable. lightly shoving him, you hop off of the washing machine and drop to your knees in front of him.

joshua watches you with dark eyes, holding onto the edge of the machine. you fumble with his belt, hands shaking with anticipation of finally having him, and he makes no effort to help you out. your hands work too fast, and you mess up when you try to pull the buckle open for the second time. “i’ve got all day,” he say smugly. you ignore him, and finally pull his belt free. you work his pants down to his ankles, leaving. him in just his briefs. you let out a breath and look up at him with pure lust. “as pretty as you look right now, you’d look much better with my cock in your mouth.”

quickly, you pull his underwear down and let them pool together with his pants, hands flying to grab ahold of his member. you pump him a few times, flicking your eyes to look up at him. joshua gives you a slight nod, signaling you to start sucking, and you eagerly oblige. sticking your tongue out, you lick up the precum that dribbles out of the tip before you wrap your lips around the head and push him into your mouth, cheeks hollowing as you go. a groan escapes joshua’s mouth and he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you drag him into your mouth inch by inch, your eyes never once leaving his. his chest heaves up and down, moving faster and faster the closer you get to taking him all the way. tears prick in your eyes when he hits the back of your throat, but you keep going until your nose nearly presses into his hips. “shit,” he whispers, leaning more of his weight into the washing machine.

you bob your head up and down, pulling back and stroking what doesn’t fit. you swirl your tongue around the tip, cheeks hollowing to create more suction when you suck on the tip. joshua moans lowly above you and tells you how good you’re doing. his eyes flutter shut, squeezed shut in pleasure and his chin drops down to his mouth. you want his eyes on you, want him to watch you as you make him feel good, so you purposefully scrape your teach against his dick to get his attention.

his eyes fly open as he jerks back from you, glaring at you when you smile around him. “brat,” he spits and tightens his grip on your hair. you sigh through your nose and press your thighs together, cunt throbbing with need. you keep bobbing your head, speeding up slightly and taking more of him into your mouth. when joshua presses your head down, you relax your throat and let him take control, hands moving to hold onto his thighs. “good girl.” he grunts, holding your head down on his dick for a few seconds until you gag, and then he pulls you off of him.

he does this a few more times, his cock twitching against your tongue. tears gather in your eyes but you power through, determined to make him cum. he pulls you down onto him, cursing each time he hits the back of your throat. “fuck, you take me so well. i’m c-close,” tears slip down your cheeks and mix in with the spit and cum. your face is a mess, but neither of you care.

joshua fucks his cock into your mouth, holding your head steady in his hands. you dig your nails his thighs to combat the ache in your jaw. he thrusts into your mouth until he can’t take the feeling of your warm mouth around him anymore, his cum shooting into the back of your throat. you keep your mouth open to catch all of his seed, some of it gathering around the corner of your lips. “s-swallow,” he demands when he pulls his cock away from your mouth.

you obediently swallow, and he whines in the back of his throat. “goddamn, i love you,” he holds his hands out to you and helps you up onto his feet. he wipes the corners of you lips with his thumb and shoves it into your mouth, lips parting when you suck on his thumb like you just did his cock. “youre such a slut.” he murmurs, a loving gaze in his eyes.

a trail of saliva connects your lips to his thumb when you pull it out of your mouth. “promise?” you ask.

joshua smiles and pulls you into a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. his hands make use of unbuttoning your jeans and shoving his hands down your pants. your panties are damp, and he’s a bit shocked and honored that you’re this wet for him. “i need you,” you whine, peppering kisses down his neck. you don’t even want his fingers, just want him inside of you.

“i know,” he rasps, slipping a finger between your folds. you shudder when he touches you, his finger playing with your arousal and brushing over your clit, just to make you jump. you clench around nothing, and it’s nearly painful how turned on you are.

“joshua!” you whine, nipping at his neck. his hand immediately grabs onto your hair and yanks, a hiss emitting from your lips followed by a smirk.

“needy brat,” he grumbles, walking the two of you over to the work bench in the room. he drops onto it and spreads his legs invitingly. you quickly step out of your jeans and underwear, his eyes roaming over your body. “you’re a beautiful, y/n.”joshua says sincerely; at the end of the day, he is simply a lover boy.

you smile at him and quickly drop yourself onto his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck. you reach between the two of you and position yourself over his cock. his hands grip onto your hips tightly and guide you down onto him, bottom lip drawing in between his teeth.

“ah-fuck!” you cry when you sink onto the tip, the initial stretch rippling through you.

“you’ve got it, baby,” he encourages, thumbs rubbing sift circles into your hips. you bite down on your bottom lip, hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders as you sink lower and lower onto him. “goddamn, girl.” he grunts, hips bucking when you clench around him.

when you manage to take all of him, you sit still and catch your breath, head resting on his shoulder. joshua unhooks your bra and you lean back to slide it off your arms. “you okay?” he asks, hands groping your chest.

“uh huh,” you rasp, taking it as a sign to start fuckign him, licking your lips and raising your hips before dropping onto his lap. “fuck, shua.” whimpers leave you lips as you fuck yourself onto him, using his shoulders as leverage to move yourself up and down. joshua relaxes into the wall, his grip on your hips loosening as you gain momentum and find a rhythm.

“you’re so tight,” he groans, one of his thumbs finding your clit and rubbing slow circles around the sensitive nub. “been thinking about fucking you all day.” joshua sighs and rubs your clit quicker, eyes peering up to watch your facial expressions. “you need me as bad as i needed you?” he mumbles, voice low and husky.

“more,” you pant, still bouncing up and down on him. your cunt clamps around him like it’s trying to keep him there. “shuaaa!” you whine, thighs burning. you sit on his lap, rolling your hips into his.

he chuckles breathlessly, rolling his other thumb over one of your nipples. “yeah? tell me,” he grins at you devilishly, this side of him only coming out in your intimate moments.

“so bad,” you cry, grinding down onto his lap. “w-wanna give you a-another baby.” you squeeze around him involuntarily, a knot forming in your stomach. joshua twitches inside of you at the mention of having another child.

“yeah? want me to fill you up?” you whimper and nod, legs starting to shake. “want me to fuck you full of my cum until you’re pregnant again?” he lets go of you breast to place both hands underneath your ass. he lifts you up and drops you down, a show of his strength as he fucks you up an down onto him.

joshua grumbles filthy things into your ear; tells you that he’s gonna fuck you until you can’t walk, that he’s gonna stuff you full, that’s he’s going to give you another baby tonight. “f-fuck! i-im gonna cum,” you cry, throwing your head back in pleasure. he bucks his hips up into you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you repeatedly.

spots blur your vision and your cunt spasms around him as you reach your climax. it hits you like a thousand bricks, and you’re shaking in his arm and crying out his name. you expect him to stop, but he keeps thrusting up into you, drawing out your orgasm further. you can hardly think through the waves of pleasure, which is why you hardly register that he’s lifted you up until you’re placed on a cold surface.

joshua drags you to the edge of the washing machine and slams his cock into you, nearly knocking the wind out of you. “o-oh my god,” you gasp, tears brimming in your eyes for the second time tonight. “you feel so good!”

he drives his hips into you brutally, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. “f-fuck, i’m not gonna last,” he groans, dropping his head into your neck. he kisses your skin and lightly bites, though not hard enough to leave marks. you cling to him, arms secured around his shoulders like you may fall if you dont hold on.

his thrusts get sloppier by the second, indicative of his nearing climax. “i love you,” you breathe, nails clawing at his back. he grunts, whining out curses as he cums inside of you, his dick twitching between your walls. he stills, fingers applying bruising pressure to your hips.

after a few moments, he lifts his head from your shoulder and looks at you, a tender smile on his face. he presses his lips to your gently, sighing against you as he goes soft. “shit,” he pants, followed by a light chuckle.

you can’t help but giggle back, running a hand through his hair. he doesn’t want to pull out, not yet at least, wanting to make sure his cum stays inside of you as long as possible. he lets go of your thighs and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you into his chest. you kiss the column of his throat, right on his adam’s apple and rubs soft circles into your back.

“we should clean up,” he murmurs, starting to draw back from you. you make a sound of disagreement and squeeze around him on purpose. “b-brat.” he stammers, curling away from you.

he pulls out of you with a lewd squelch, both of you turning light shades of pink at the noise. he helps you off of the washer and you lean against it. he finds a random towel and comes back to wipe between your legs before cleaning himself off and tossing it in the same basket he threw his shirt in. “i guess i could start a load,” you say, looking at all of the discarded clothes, making joshua laugh.

he helps you gather them up and drop them into the washer. you add in the detergent and slam the top closed. except, when you go to start the washer, joshua places a hand on your back and presses you flat against the washer and slots his knee between your legs to spread them open. you don’t get a chance to prepare yourself because he’s pushing into you again, a strong arm wrapping around your middle to hold you steady as he fucks into you from behind, determined to get you pregnant tonight.

[gothamundernightlight]

These are pure gold 😂

We've seen a lot of sibling behavior but what about Bruce's only child behavior

He celebrates his half birthday

None of the kids have had celery since moving in because Bruce hates it

He never learned how to share and when Harley asked to borrow his microwave in med school he started hiding it out of view

He plays table tennis against the wall and the wall always wins

He was voted Most Socially Unaware in the yearbook

In kindergarten, he tried to introduce himself to a new student by biting them like a T-Rex

He didn't know that video games could be multiplayer until Dick moved in and thought the second controller was for in case the first one stopped working

Besides the whole empathy thing, Bruce adopted kids so he can blame the broken vase on someone else for once

He thinks having siblings is the same as office coworkers or Justice League teammates

So the first time he saw his kids wrestling over Oreos he freaked out and called an emergency session with Dinah

Then he lectured Cass for taking Duke's jacket

And told Tim off for hiding the remote from everyone

He always thought inheritance was doled out to family members automatically until he saw Dick, Jason, and Damian fighting over who gets his wristwatch collection and realized he should probably call his lawyer to sort it out

Sometimes when he does laundry he forgets to ask the others if they need anything cleaned and only loads the washer with his own clothes

He also drinks straight from the communal orange juice

And takes unlabeled leftovers without asking

He thinks out loud because he's used to no one overhearing, so that's how the kids find out when, where, and how he planned to propose to Selina

[anxiousnerdwritings]

I am going FERAL over this imagine:

So basically Bruce brings reader home to be his new daughter/the boys' new sibling but Uh Oh! They now want you carnally and reader is just like "you said you wanted me as a daughter/sibling, wtf is this" and being their platonic darling is better than being shared between them romantically so reader tries to come off as innocent and child/sibling coded by being like "yeah I've never actually kissed or dated anyone before aren't I just so innocent" and the boys are like :)))

So then Dick says you can call him your boyfriend "just to feel it out" and Tim starts blatantly stealing your panties and Jason says he can give you your 1st kiss so you can "practice" with him and Bruce offers to teach you how to touch yourself and (and him) and when you try to walk it back cause the boys are being Freaks they're in their delulu era so eventually you end up tied to the bed with the boys and Bruce drawing straws over who gets to take what 1sts (like 1st date, kiss, virginity, ect).

And Damien is just in the background absolutely SEETHING cause the the boys and Bruce's Horny Time keeps interrupting his Mommy Time with the reader

And reader using Damien as kind of a shield cause what are they going to do, feel you up in front of a CHILD? Like just, "Stay Platonic :))"

Just that kind of pseudo incest makes me Feel Things (*/∀＼*)(///∇///)

I'd love your thoughts/a fic based on this! Ty ❤️

TW: Brief mentions of pseudo incest(y) scenarios/behavior, manipulative tactics, yandere tendencies

(Okay so I’ll answer this with my thoughts for right now.)

I know I primarily write incest(y) related topics for my Game of Thrones/ASOIAF stuff but I have been tempted to/curious about branching it out into some of the other fandoms I write for 👀. (I’ve had a few ideas rolling around in my noggin for a bit if anyone is interested.) So I would be willing to give this a try. I’m down to experiment with some new stuff, within reason of course.

I imagine the Reader being older (probably 19-23), maybe even having been a runaway of sorts or not having a very stable home life, so when they’re given the ‘offer’ to become part of the family they’re looking to fulfill a familial void they’ve never experienced or have forgotten how it’s felt like. I definitely see Bruce and the rest of the boys keeping a very close eye on the Reader before they decide to finally bring them into their family, basically full on stalking them from the moment they caught their attention (you know how the Batfam works). It wouldn’t be a surprise if even before the Reader was with them physically that the boys developed a more carnal desire for them. At first, their intentions were completely platonic, but with all the lengthy observing and information gathering of their supposed-to-be-new-family-member eventually something changed in how they all saw their darling.

I really see the change in their obsession starting with either Dick or Tim first. Especially regarding some accidental or purposeful peeping Tom foolery. I feel like Bruce would be the last to fall victim to the change in direction or at the very least he’s the last one to admit to it. If Damian is younger than I see his obsession staying strictly platonic, but if he were much older than I could see him involving himself to the same depths as his family.

At first, I see things happening subtly. Knowing that at the very least a few of them are already in an obsessive-romantic headspace in regards to their darling before they even physically become part of the family the guys would try to be as welcoming as possible without revealing their true intentions. They don’t want to scare you off right away, they want you to walk into it semi-willingly at least. But the interactions with the Reader would show something else. The lingering touches, the being much closer to you than really necessary, the heated grazes over your clothes here and there that leave you wondering if that actually happened or not. I also kind of like the other members not being fully aware of each other’s change in obsession, everyone giving each other the side eye until it sets in and then all out war of who gets the darling to themself unfolds only to eventually end up with them working together and agreeing to share. That’s when Bruce’s heel-turn is revealed.

Once things get truly amped up, the interactions with the Reader really begin to escalate. The boys would walk around shirtless more often, all of them trying to get their darling to look at them, to really look at them. Eventually, it’s not just them being shitless but either them in nothing but their underwear or nothing at all. They start out as accidents but eventually it’s pretty loud and clear that the guys want you to see them, all of them, to even touch them and feel them to your hearts content. But thats not all, of course it’s not. The touching of their darling only gets all the more intense, to the point that you know damn well that they’re touching you and they want to leave you wanting for more. So much more. The Reader’s innocence and lack of experience would only spur them on even more. They absolutely thrive off of it. They all want to be your first, your first everything. There will be a lot of secret ‘lessons’ being given behind closed doors and telling of “Don’t tell Batdaddy or he’ll get real mad.” “Don’t let Jay know, or he’ll want to punish you for not doing this with him.” “Let this be our secret, (Name). Something just for you and me.” “Can’t tell anyone about this or they’ll ruin it for the both of us.” And they only get even worse from there.

I can’t see Alfred being okay with this in any situation, whatsoever. I think he especially would feel like Bruce and the other boys completely took advantage of the Reader and he would try his best to aid them in trying to keep up with the platonic intention of this entire fiasco. He would be a total cockblock, even going as far as helping Damian in his cockblocking endeavors. Alfred’s intention would be to play both sides so he knows how to help the Reader when it comes to Bruce and the others but it wouldn’t take too long for them to figure out that Alfred is working against them. Like, Alfred was all for the familial-platonic obsession but when things started getting more romantic he was ready to shut that shit down ASAP. You can’t tell me he hasn’t, at least a few times, locked Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim out of the house to give the Reader some peace and give Damian his much deserved allotted time with them.

Speaking of Damian, he is a menace (as per usual) but even more so than normal. He really doesn’t take too well to the new direction of his father’s and brothers’ obsession for the Reader. He thinks it’s pretty messed up but he sincerely likes and cares about the Reader and he wants them to stay, he wants them to continue being a part of the family forever so he’ll let some things slide. Some. He even may be willing to look the other way when it eventually comes to Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim baby-trapping the Reader if it means this whole ‘family’ thing becomes set in stone with the arrival of a new ‘sibling’. But for the most part, at least early on, Damian would be a huge pain in the ass for the other family members. He feels like he needs to step in to save his darling from the others and their ulterior motives. He’s all his parental/older sibling figure needs, at least at that point. He may even try to runaway with them to keep them safe from the others. Hell, he may even get his mother involved if he was desperate enough, especially if he saw the Reader as a parental figure. Or maybe even another Justice League member to either adopt him and the Reader so that he could have that family experience he was promised with the Reader. Or he would be completely content just living the rest of his life just him and the Reader, platonically of course.

It would either take Bruce or Dick to have a talk with Damian to get him to come to some agreement to allow them to continue with what they’re doing in regards to the Reader. I think Dick would get away with manipulating Damian much better than Bruce could. I think Damian would have some opinions about his father especially throughout this whole situation. Especially since I see Damian being very observant of how Dick, Jason and Tim are behaving towards the Reader early on and picking up on the fuckery taking place, even going as far as telling Bruce about it under the belief his father would be on his side (not ever fathoming the idea of his father also doing similar things to the Reader without him ever knowing). As far as Damian knew his father was completely platonic towards the Reader, as a ‘father’ should be. Right? So understandably Damian feels not only betrayed but also disgusted when he finds out that his father was and still is taking part in, acting in a similarly depraved fashion as the others.

Eventually, I could see them coming together and being one big ‘happy’ family. But it sure as hell comes at a price. (Usually the Reader’s freedom and sense of self outside of the obsession they’ve been dragged into, to drown in alongside their yandere(s).)

[monimccoythings]

Like Father Like Daughter

I have so many WIPs from different fandoms and this Wolverine fic ideas just keep coming and coming... I appreciate so much the support I've been shown, I don't look at the notes because it shows in activity that is 99+ and I get anxious lol. Logan has a nasty temper but is really fun to write.

Living with an ill-tempered man like Logan wasn't always easy, but living with him and his variant's teenaged clone turned adopted daughter who had the exact same temper as him, was proving to be quite the challenge.

As anybody would expect, those two were constantly butting heads at everything, be it food, curfews, or, just as they were doing at this very moment, Laura's choices in fashion.

The girl had chosen some shorts and black leggings, with black sneakers, and a crop top that was way too short for an old fashioned man like Logan to approve, to hang out with some friends she had made at her new high school. Barely sparing a glance at her outfit, Logan had snapped at her to go back to her room and change into something more appropiate, which Laura took it as well as any teenage girl that had spent part of her earliest teen years dressing and doing what she pleased in the void would. And then the screaming match had begun.

"NO CHILD OF MINE IS GOING OUT DRESSED UP LIKE THAT."

"IT'S JUST A SHIRT, IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL."

You let out a quiet sigh. You knew daughters were supposed to rebel against their parents, but having two superpowered beings at each other's throats at all times wasn't the great idea the universe thought it was. You knew they loved each other deeply and would kill for each other, but sometimes they were way too much alike.

"Sweetie, listen to Daddy on this one, he just wants what's best for you."

How the fuck had Wade gotten in and embraced your husband's muscular arm without anyone noticing. With a low growl, Logan pushed him away. Laura did not seem too pleased with him either.

"FUCK OFF, YOU AREN'T MY MOM!"

Wade covered his mouth and let out a shocked gasp that honestly was worthy of an Oscar nomination. You quietly thanked him for his presence, maybe that would help relieve the tension in the room. Laura turned at you, imploringly.

"Tell him he's just overreacting. Please."

You sneakily looked at your husband, who seemed to be red with rage, his lips pulled back in a feral snarl that clearly was a display of dominance, knuckles pressed against the wooden table so tightly that you started to fear for the well being of the furniture. His muscles were so tense he looked like he was going to burst out of his shirt, by the way the veins in his neck were swelling.

You didn't want to disrespect his authority over his daughter, but you also didn't want to make Laura direct her hate at you; you loved that girl and her attitude as if she was your own child. It seemed they needed some consesus, and you guessed you'd have to be once again the bigger person here.

"Laura, your father is just worried about you. If you want to wear that top, then you'd have to put a jacket on. And we want you back home by eleven."

"But my friends-" She started to protest, but you quickly cut her off.

"Eleven and that's more than your father was willing to give you."

She bit her lip, considering her options. With a huff, she stomped back towards her room to get that jacket. She slammed the front door on the way back out, not even bothering to say goodbye. Teenagers.

The living room got quiet. Really quiet. You could only hear Wade munching on some popcorn he had gotten from God knows where. Logan was fuming, not at you of course, but at his unruly adoptive daughter's behavior. He stormed towards your shared bedroom and slammed the door close hard enough, it made the pictures on the wall tremble. You sighed.

Well that went well.

It wasn't until half an hour later that he cooled off and decided to come out. You were cleaning up some dishes while Wade sat on the couch watching some cartoons. It made you smile, it was like you had two children running around.

You felt your husband's stubble and nose nuzzle against the back of your neck, as he embraced you from behind, his massive hands covering the entire expanse of your fourth month pregnant belly. "Feeling better now?" You casually asked.

His teeth nipped at the skin on your neck leaving a burning feeling that only his tongue could soothe. "I don't know what to do with her, she seems to fight against everything I do or say." His deep rumbling voice sent shivers running down your spine.

"Deep down she knows you love her. And she loves you too, even if she is too 'cool' to admit it." He let out a bitter chuckle, massaging your belly while leaning his chin on your shoulder, his sideburns made you tickle.

"I just hope this little one doesn't give us that much trouble."

"Hey, however they come out, we will love them the same, because they are a part of our family." He kissed your cheek and you leaned back into his embrace.

"Yes, our family." You let out a laugh at the sudden extra weight on your backs. Looks like Wade had gotten tired of the tv and had decided to join you into your little embrace.

"Wade..." Logan started warningly, carefully prying his hands away from your belly.

*SNIKT*

[peachesofteal]

ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes (non con touching, spanking) / masterlist

The ice cream placates you... for a few minutes.

By the end of the bowl, your skin begins to crawl.

Weak.

They watch you in the lowlight of the kitchen, eyes unwavering, Simon's focused like a laser, Johnny's lazy like the sunset.

Still, each stay steady. Constant.

"The staring is getting old." You mutter in the bowl, spoon clinking against ceramic.

"Jus' making sure ye get enough to eat." Johnny's smile touches his eyes, but your stomach thrashes, unsettled, unnerved.

They kidnapped you, and now they're trying to sweeten you up with ice cream. Like you're a child with a new toy to thwart a tantrum.

There's a single bite left, half melted in the bottom.

"Feel better now?" Simon smirks, and fire sparks to life. Anger, rage boils. Feel better? Do you feel better? Do you feel better, after what they did?

They did this. They did this... to you.

"Fuck you." It's a whisper with your head down, but loud enough to trigger a chair scrape. The sound of someone standing.

"Doe, c'mon now, we only want to protect ye-"

"Johnny." Simon cuts him off, and you glance between both of them. Johnny almost looks sad, mourning in the pools of his eyes, and for a second, you feel bad.

Only for a second.

"Ye dinnae know it now, but we're helping ye. Ye'll see." It's so condescending, and you sneer, eyes narrowed to slits. He doesn't caution himself at the change in your demeanor, the rampant discomfort filling the room, and just when you think he's done talking-

he steps in it. "When ye're done bein' a brat, we'll talk about-"

The ice cream bowl is out of your hand and sailing across the room before your brain even connects what happens. It misses, but the melted strawberry and vanilla splatters across Johnny's face, bowl smashing to pieces on impact as it makes contact with the floor.

Nobody moves. Nobody breathes. Johnny' stares at you, shocked, and then-

Simon is on you. His eyes are murderous and the fear is back, your heart racing, pulse pounding under your chin. His big body corrals you before you even get a chance to get off the stool, and he yanks your wrists forward, heaving you up over his shoulder in one fell swoop.

"No! Get off me! Put me down, put me- let me go!" You scream, twisting and turning, trying to free yourself, only for him to clamp down more, Johnny on his heels.

You've broken down in tears as soon as you get to bedroom, and he throws you on the bed.

He stands at the edge, still as stone. There's no warmth in his expression, no life in his eyes, and you scramble away on your back, knees tucked to your chest.

He grabs your ankle. "Hand or belt." Johnny's lips thin. Your stomach roils.

"W-what?"

"Hand, or belt." You shake your head. "No? Alright." His smile is feral, wild and dark as his belt buckle clangs open.

"No! No, no please." You're shaking. Terrified.

"You're not gettin' out of this. One last chance to make a choice." Oh god. Oh my god.

"Hand... hand." He drags you to the edge of the bed, tugging you across his knees roughly.

"Johnny." He instructs over your head, your eyes blurry with tears, widening when you feel your pants and underwear being pulled down, your ass upturned in cool air.

"No!" you shriek. "No! No, please. I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry." You rock back and forth, desperate, trying to kick, trying to get away.

"'s too late, little doe." Johnny sounds sympathetic, but then his fingers dig into the backs of thighs so hard they hurt. You wail.

"Why are you doing this?"

"You want to be a brat so badly, you can be one. But your behavior will always come with consequences." Simon murmurs, palm rubbing over the swell of your ass. He swats at the fat of your cheeks, and you flinch.

"Please." Your final plea is meek and breathless. It falls on deaf ears.

He doesn't give you warning. The air, shifts, and his hand cuts through it, raining down onto your skin with a violent, open palm slap. You shriek.

"If you count, we'll go to ten. If I count, we'll go to twenty." Your lungs are wet with tears.

"O-one, please, I'm sorry." You try to wriggle again, but Johnny's vice grip stills you. The next spank is just as hard as the first, and you moan. It fucking hurts. "Two." He alternates until he gets to seven, and then the pain starts to turn, changing to a burn, a prickled sensation that floods your blood.

"Almost there." Simon tells you, and you sniffle miserably, tears still streaming down your face.

The eighth is the hardest one yet, and it drags a scream from your throat. Your skin is raw. "Eight."

Nine is even harder. Your muscles hurt from holding yourself so tense, and you hiccup. "Nine."

"Last one. Take a deep breath." You can't. You're frozen, and Simon's fingers stroke the back of your neck. "Take a deep breath, doe." You make an effort, and as soon as your chest expands, the final spank rains down on you, harder than them all, harder enough it steals your breath. "Good job, you're done. No more." He soothes, stroking down your back before squeezing one of your cheeks, the bloom of bruised agony jolting you to your side. Johnny whistles.

"Ye made a mess, little doe. Pain make ye wet, sweet thing?" What? At first, you think he's talking about the giant tear stain on the sheets, and then embarrassment takes over when you think you might have peed yourself-

but when a finger strokes down your folds, you gasp.

You're wet.

You struggle to get away, only resulting in rolling enough that Simon is able to flip you to your back, one hand holding your knee to his chest, the other behind your shoulders, holding you still. It's too rough on your skin, and you shriek, voice cutting out as you feel something damp. There's a wet spot beneath you, and the horrified realization sinks in that you did that, that you're so wet you soaked Simon's pants.

"Don't." You hiss, trying to close your legs, but Johnny forces them wide. "Don't touch me!" He chuckles, knuckle running down your seam.

"I dinnae, ye look like ye need to be touched." You try to shove him away, but Simon bands your arms down against your stomach, his elbow now holding you open. "Was goin' wait for this part, but might as well since ye're ready. Let's take a look at ye." What? The blood drains from your face.

"Tests came back clear." Simon tells him, speaking over you like you're not even there. Johnny nods. What tests? His head cocks. "She'll need a shave." You try to force you legs closed again, struggling, and Johnny's free hand swings-

He slaps your pussy. Your eyes widen in shock.

Your traitorous cunt throbs.

"Be a good girl." He admonishes. "Think we can get the doctor here in the next few days?" You whimper.

"Shouldn't be a problem." Simon's thumb is rubbing circles in your shoulder, like he's trying to comfort you. The fight is draining from your body by the second, replaced by an insatiable hunger for something else. A desire to come.

Johnny presses on your clit, and your hips jerk. He laughs. "There she is, hidin' just under the hood. Sensitive little thing." A finger gently pushes inside you, just a fingertip, and you tremble. "Tight too."

"S-stop."

"No." His grin is wolfish, and he slides farther, deeper, making you gasp. "I think ye want to come, doe." He works a circle around your clit, and you buck involuntarily, legs shaking. Your bladder is full, adding to the pressure, and all of it is unbearable. "C'mon then, let's see this little pussy come. Ye can do it." He coos, not even looking at your face, head down and focused where he's stroking inside you and rubbing your clit.

"I don't I- I hate you, let me g-go." You're panting now, trying to ward off your orgasm, desperate to give into their satisfaction. "Nnngh." You moan, sensibility disappearing by the second. Simon's rock hard underneath you, and he grinds against your ass, the scraping and burning only fueling your climb to the peak. You clench your eyes shut as a hand smoothes over your lower belly, and then pushes.

"Stop!" you shriek. "I have to pee- n-no, stop." Johnny's eyes turn mad, and Simon laughs.

"Dinnae let go, doe. Or ye'll be punished again. Hold it in." You sputter and choke on a groan as Johnny flicks your clit and then strokes it harder, fucking you with his finger just as fast, shoving you into an orgasm that has you screaming, blinding white light behind your eyes.

"Good girl!" Simon praises like you've just scored a goal or gotten an A on a paper, his lips pressing to your forehead. "Just like that, little doe." You ride Johnny's hand, pathetic mewls and moans filling the room until there's nothing left, and you collapse, limp between them.

Everything goes dark.

The world feels fuzzy. Everything feels strange, like you're floating, untethered, gone from this world. The sting of your skin, the burn of the pain takes you somewhere else, and you hardly register being moved to the bed, cool cream being massaged into your skin. They're speaking, but you don't know what's being said, and you can't hold onto consciousness long enough to stay awake. Cool water tips down your throat, and then you slip away, back to the darkness, sleep settling in your bones.